Lilac Wine :: a warzone towards haiku

August 13, 2010

Rope::Burn Preview Shoot

Filed under: Text — Tags: , , — Lilac @ 1:24 pm

I look down and see fat and bruises and weird curves; it isn’t artistic,  it’s hard, I’m being used. And eventually it’s hard when my hands numb and that’s somewhat disturbing though I’m getting used to it. When the mouse-traps clip over my pussy it’s degrading, and degradation changes in nature when there are photographers; implying others’ gaze when you’re not there to witness their reactions; so they can carve you up from scene and circumstance, and crop at will. A lover will know I’m a smart girl with degrees and a dayjob, and that I’ll think about the implications of this afterward. A stranger can crop at will, and I do not control the most striking elements of the picture. I am openly offering my nakedness and endurance, which I value; and the whole world has the jpg’s.

(Then again, strangers see each other in 2d every day. It’s common to be carved and abstracted. But this form I am in is especially ..gratifying? and why would a stranger deserve sexual or psychological gratification from me?
Or why not. Is it not good to be generous? If I can give yet continue to have, and give… and I am learning from having it taken… )

Why is it degrading? Is it that mousetraps inspire such visceral disgust & I’m taking them anyway? Is it that most girls wouldn’t do this, ’cause most girls would think it devalues their pussy? Or themselves? Do I think it’s devaluation? I think it’s my fucking pussy and I get to work with it at will. It’s kind of awesome that I’m strong, but I’m not sure why I’m using my strength this way; I’m okay serving art, but sexuality is harder, and serving others’ psyche when I’m not sure how they see me is weird, you know? What am I making of them? Can I make monsters?

I like bringing beauty. What else is there? What am I offering? Is this sex to you, or pain, or do you like when a girl’s helpless and ashamed, caving in but still naked, ready for the taking, if-she-will-do-this-she-must-do-anything?

Am i being used? The world’s not doing this for the sake of my pride and sexual liberation. There are currencies being traded, lust entertainment spectacle money opportunity friendship connection romance excitement sensation practice..

I’m here in suspension; which began as flight, an art and a pleasure; and it’s not that right now. It’s not even a good pain. It’s tough and I’m trying to please photographers, work well with my rigger, somehow react right. Please a handful of people in their various capacities (even when I try to honestly sink into the experience, I’m unsure whose benefit that’s for.)

What does that make me? An anguissette, a worked-upon canvas? Is the material my body or my head? How would my worth change if I liked it more, if I didn’t, if I was fatter or slenderer? Is it better if I’m smiling, if I’m ashamed, if I like it like sex or as novelty and should I fake any of these? This is work. This is meant to be real. This is meant to bring others pleasure. These photographs will advertise our show thus affecting the rigger, the others he ties, the regret or anticipation of those who have already bought tickets..

Does it matter what I’m thinking, does it show on my face, who’s looking at my face anyway, are they, is it distracting or better if i moan? Scream? I can’t help screaming.

What does this make me? I like giving pleasure, though this is so very indiscriminate; so am I okay making a currency of pleasure? You may have the spectacle; I have your attention. I get tied, which is a part I always love; and I enjoy pain. I get to see the underground close up. I get to participate in an exchange of genuine desire. I get to see lust. I get to see honest reaction. If I’m lucky I get to pull base, uncommon things from the minds and hearts of others. Or I get to inspire experimentation, wonder, curiosity in the audience. Or I’ll be just part of a novel evening and do poorly, in the real event; I don’t get to claim any reaction yet. I get $100; that’s of little relevance. It goes into schoolgirl knee-socks etc.

Afterwards I was quite disappointed in my performance. I let myself get thrown by the photographers and my disobedient schoolgirl-braids, which fell apart and obscured my face. My brother brought me scotch (which I sipped through a red liquorice straw, in a nod to perversity).

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2 Comments »

  1. Love how comprehensive this is. Not sure that routine nerve compression is anything to gloss over, however, and as I said before, there was nothing lacking in your performance.

    *Should* it be a performance though? What is inspired in the viewer is not simple…should what is presented be any different? Whether you inspire lust or horror or monstrous intentions, should your part ever be more than catalyst? I wonder if it doesn’t become something else if you thought about and then enacted your choice of whether to scream, whether to smile, whether to attain telekinetic powers over braids….

    My two cents….

    Comment by Fistandantilus — August 13, 2010 @ 3:39 pm

  2. I was on the other side of the camera. May I respond to some of your points and answer a few of your questions? The answers to most of your questions must come from you, of course.

    “I look down and see fat…” That must have been Mike you were seeing, not you.

    “…my hands numb…” Hand can go numb due to lack of circulation, which is fine when circulation is restored, or peripheral nerve damage, which takes a long time to heal. Don’t treat numbness lightly unless you are with a very experienced bondage top (like Mike) who is not going to tie you up in a way that will put pressure on your nerves.

    “A lover will know I’m a smart girl with degrees and a dayjob, and that I’ll think about the implications of this afterward. A stranger can crop at will, and I do not control the most striking elements of the picture.” It’s so much more interesting to take pictures of a smart girl with degrees and a day job being reduced to a sex toy. However, I want to take pictures that say something about you as a person. The shots I liked best were the ones that showed a meaningful expression on your face – pain, pleasure, defiance, anticipation. Having read your comments on the mousetraps, though, I had to go and crop a picture down so that it just shows a pussy with mousetraps. I’ll post it on fetlife in a few days. That one is just for you. Since the mousetraps seemed to be the most emotionally charged part of the scene for you, let’s take that and run with it.

    “But this form I am in is especially ..gratifying? and why would a stranger deserve sexual or psychological gratification from me?” Interesting question. As a photographer I could ask the same thing. After all, I spend the evening trying to take a great photo rather than enjoying the show. I’m also spending money on camera gear, and attending the photo shoot to produce photos that I give away for free on the Internet. For me the answer is that I do it because I like giving pleasure to other people. ‘Look! Look at this! Isn’t this cool? Don’t you think I’m a cool person for showing you this beautiful moment?’

    “Or why not. Is it not good to be generous? If I can give yet continue to have, and give… and I am learning from having it taken… )” Exactly!

    “Why is it degrading? Is it that mousetraps inspire such visceral disgust & I’m taking them anyway?…” People have different ideas of what is degrading. For instance, I would have thought that having your head pushed around wit the business end of a mop was more degrading than the mousetrap thing, but apparently not for you. I remember one scene where the most difficult part for my sub was something I did not think much of at the time – when I ordered her to lick the sole of my boots. That pushed her buttons in a way that nudity, bondage, pain and verbal abuse did not. Degradation is far more in the mind of the person being degraded than in any objective criteria.

    “…serving others’ psyche when I’m not sure how they see me is weird, you know? What am I making of them? Can I make monsters?” I really don’t think so. I don’t feel like a monster, anyhow. If you want to know how others see you, ask them. The people who come to see a bondage show, or seek out bondage pictures have already made up their mind what they are looking for. I don’t think bondage porn changes people other than in the positive way of making them not feel so alone in their weird desires. (You have no idea what it was like to be a pervert before the Internet, but believe me, some people where feeling pretty alone back then.)

    “Is this sex to you, or pain, or do you like when a girl’s helpless and ashamed, caving in but still naked, ready for the taking, if-she-will-do-this-she-must-do-anything?” Yes, yes and yes. Actually, what I was mostly looking for during the photo shoot was the moment that could be photographed to tell the story of the girl, helpless and ashamed, caving in but still naked, ready for the taking… If I could get all that in a picture then I would consider it a success.

    “Am i being used?” Do you want to be used? If you were doing it for the money, maybe, but I don’t think you were. Were you using Mike? Were you using the audience last night?

    “What does that make me? An anguissette, a worked-upon canvas?” It makes you a model. A favorite line from Helmut Newton: ‘Is she a model or a real person?’

    “How would my worth change if I liked it more, if I didn’t, if I was fatter or slenderer?” If you liked it more the energy would be more like Lydia’s set which would have given less variety to the evening. If you had liked it less it would have been edgier. It would have spoken to a darker part of me. It might have been even cooler. Fatter or slenderer doesn’t make a lot of difference to me, though I don’t think you could actually get any slenderer.

    “Is it better if I’m smiling, if I’m ashamed, if I like it like sex or as novelty and should I fake any of these?” I think it’s better if you don’t fake it. Smiling or ashamed both work so long as it is real.

    “Does it matter what I’m thinking, does it show on my face, who’s looking at my face anyway…” I was looking at your face. As I said, I think it’s the most important part of the photograph.

    “Scream? I can’t help screaming.” Screams are cool.

    “Afterwards I was quite disappointed in my performance.” I certainly wasn’t.

    “I let myself get thrown by the photographers and my disobedient schoolgirl-braids, which fell apart and obscured my face.” The hair across your face was great. You could still see your face, but the strands of hair across it showed a loss of control that added a lot to the photos.

    Comment by Andrew Conway — August 22, 2010 @ 5:45 pm


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